Stupid Cupid
by UA
Summary: Inspired by the following prompt: "So. Let me get this straight. You want to hire me to be your date to a Valentine's party?" Daryl goes out on a limb and does something unexpected. The Prison, between seasons 3 and 4. Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**Stupid Cupid**

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 **xx1xx**

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"So. Let me get this straight. You want to hire _me_ to be your date to a Valentine's Party?"

"Yeah. Naw. Ain't like that. _Shit_."

"Well," Carol bit her lip to keep from laughing as the man in front of her blushed a deep, endearing pink. From the well of his bobbing throat to the tips of his almost elfin ears. Even those impressive biceps of his, well. _Ahem_. She really shouldn't be openly ogling him like this when the man was clearly struggling. He was her friend, after all. Least she liked to think they were friends. And with Lori and Andrea gone, Maggie happy in her little Glenn love bubble, Beth still so young in her ways, and the Woodbury people still so unfamiliar to her, she was in sore need of the companionship and Daryl was easily the best friend she had ever had, anyway. It wouldn't do to alienate him and send him scurrying back to the safety of his shell. "Which one is it?"

Daryl raked a rough hand through his hair, starting at the crown of his head and effectively hiding his eyes beneath the shaggy veil of his bangs. "Forget it. Ain't nothing."

Dog-earing the page of the book she'd been reading, Carol cast it aside, scrambling from her bunk and capturing his wrist before he could make his escape. "I didn't say _no_." His stiff shoulders relaxed, but only briefly. He remained wary, like a cornered animal afraid to take the first step toward a too-good-to-be-true trap, and her fingers itched to sweep his hair from his eyes so she could _really_ look at him. They'd made some monumental strides in their relationship since the Quarry, but some old habits were harder to break than others. She supposed her frequent, good-natured teasing of him wasn't really a help in this case. Serious and soft, she repeated, "I didn't say no, Daryl." His pulse thrummed beneath her fingertips, and it was her turn to flush awkwardly when she realized her thumb had a mind of its own and was idly stroking his skin, tracked by a hint of vivid blue.

Daryl's fingers twitched when she withdrew her hand and let it awkwardly fall to her side. Nary a second passed before his thumb made its way to his mouth. "Don't have to."

Fixated on that fascinating oral habit of his, Carol didn't immediately respond. When she did, her soft tone had devolved into smoke and longing. "What if I want to?" The moment stretched between them, and she was afraid she'd crossed that ever-present line in the sand they did their best to ignore most times when he snorted, uttered a familiar refrain.

"Stop."

"I'm serious."

"Pfft."

A laugh rumbled low in his chest, and his shoulders moved ever so minutely as he turned to go. The woman who valued his friendship above almost all else was pleased, but the woman who couldn't help wanting more bit her lip when her heart clenched painfully beneath her ribs. "Consider me hired." She caught just a glimpse of that curled lip little half-smile of his over his broad shoulder, and her own smile returned. "I have to warn you, though."

"Yeah?"

"I don't come cheap. I have conditions."

"Conditions, huh?"

Carol grinned when the flush made its way back to his cheeks. "Conditions."

"You gonna tell me about 'em?"

"In due time, Dixon." The look he gave her was more amused than frustrated, and her cheeks started to hurt from the smile that stretched wide and bright across her face as those _conditions_ started to take shape in her own mind.

A tiny groan spilled free from Daryl's mouth. "Don't like that look."

"Got to give you something to think about on your long, lonely watch shift," Carol quipped, turning on her heel and practically prancing back to her bunk. Picking up her forgotten book, she shooed him away. "Go on. I'm sure Glenn's waiting." The heavy curtain hanging in front of her cell fell back into place, and she could hear Daryl muttering beneath his breath as he walked away.

"The fuck have I done?"

Only then did she laugh.

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 **xxxxx**

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 **Sorry for this silliness. I'm blaming it on being sick, lol, and the following prompt: "So. Let me get this straight. You want to hire me to be your date to a Valentine's party?"**

 **Caution: here be some silliness, some sweetness, and maybe even some sexiness in future chapters.**

 **Let me know if you want to read more of this crazy little fic of mine. Hopefully, it will be fun and not wildly OOC.**

 **Right now, we're going to leave this at a T-rating. That's subject to change.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Stupid Cupid**

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 **xx2xx**

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Like a little yellow bumblebee buzzing happily from flower to flower the next morning during their shared breakfast shift, Beth moved from pan to pan, dipping a spoon in here, adding a pinch too much salt there, and generally bubbling with teenaged excitement. "A party! I think it'll be fun. Don't you?"

"Hmm," Carol hummed, giving the young girl a gentle nudge and taking her place before she depleted their precious supply of the seasoning in her distraction.

Beth tilted her head, and her ponytail bobbed. "It's weird, though. Daddy's not even sure anymore if it's February. It could be St. Patty's Day for all we know."

"Could be," Carol agreed. Though time had taken on a different meaning for her altogether with the uprising of the dead and the loss of her girl, she was fairly certain Hershel's estimations weren't far off. They had to be in the right month, at least. When all was said and done, though, it didn't much matter to her whatever month it was or wasn't. She was still here and _that_ counted the most.

"You going with anybody? Well, it's not _really_ like we're going anywhere, but you know what I mean."

Carol opened her mouth to answer her, but the teen didn't give her a chance, rambling on with pink cheeks about how the new boy Zach had slipped her a handwritten note the night before in the dinner line. Never one to pass up a chance to tease a loved one, Carol congratulated the youngest Greene on the budding relationship. "Zach. Oh, _Zach_. He's pretty cute."

"Who's pretty cute?" Carl asked with a grin, his sleepy baby sister cuddled in his arms.

His hair fell into his eyes, and Carol's mother's heart stuttered painfully at the hopeful look he cast Beth when the girl wasn't looking. Stepping around the table to take Judith into her arms, she kissed the baby's cherub cheeks. "Why, this little one, of course!"

Carl's brows knit, and his nose wrinkled. "I thought you said…"

Daryl pushed past him, grabbed a bowl from Beth's waiting hands. He didn't bother with the spoon she offered him, and Carl's uncomfortable line of questioning was thankfully lost when he grimaced with disgust at Daryl's complete disregard for table manners. "What you staring at?"

Beth giggled and Carl moved along with an annoyed huff.

Carol hid her smirk in the baby's soft cloud of strawberry hair and her wince when he stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked the bits of oatmeal clean before reaching out and tweaking one of Judith's socked feet. "You're lucky."

"How's that?"

She simply shook her head, choosing not to elaborate, as some of the folks from Woodbury started to stream in, along with Maggie who joined her sister in serving the hungry newcomers. "Just are."

Daryl's lips quirked in acknowledgement, and he welcomed Judith into his one-armed embrace when the baby reached for him, grunting in his efforts to keep her greedy little fingers away from the remains of his own breakfast. It was a comical juggling act, and he finally gave up the foreign act of resisting the little girl.

His generosity ( _Carol_ _couldn't think of his soft spot for Lori's little girl any other way_ ) earned him a sticky little hand tangled in his hair and a gummy, drooling kiss to his scruff and Carol damn near melted on the spot before she snapped out of it and gently pried the infant from his arms. "You can't eat Uncle Daryl for breakfast."

"Pity **."**

Daryl's ears immediately reddened, and an unconscious scowl soured his mouth.

His rough hand grabbed at her shirt in something akin to panic, and his bumbled proposition the night before suddenly started to make a whole lot more sense to Carol. Lifting a questioning brow at him, she received a tiny dip of his chin in answer. Satisfied, she slowly turned around, sweet smile in place, to greet the pretty brunette. "Karen, hi." Judith continued to reach for Daryl, pushing her little toes into Carol's belly and grabbing the low neck of her shirt in a failed attempt to gain leverage while the other woman fumbled her way through some awkward morning pleasantries.

"Carol, right?"

"That's me." Carol's smile grew even bigger and brighter, if possible, in response to the amount of hero worship shining in the Woodbury woman's eyes, and she softened a little bit, because she had certainly been there. Lived there, in fact. She really couldn't blame the woman, and it wasn't like she was some ogre or something. From all accounts, she was one of the more well-liked newcomers. All that said, Carol wasn't a saint, and this whole situation was just rife with opportunity. Fumbling for the hand that still held her shirt in a death grip, she pulled it around to her front and held it there, tucked just beneath her breasts. Shooting off a tiny prayer that she wasn't overstepping the bounds of the little arrangement they had agreed to and that Daryl couldn't feel just how hard and erratically her heart was pounding, she staked her fake claim. "I'm sure you heard about the party in a few days?"

"The party? Yes, I _did_. It sounds like a great way for everybody to get to know each other better."

"It _does_ , doesn't it?" From there, the conversation only grew more awkward, and by the time it was finished and Karen was gone, Carol was fit to be tied. Because Daryl was a solid wall of heat at her back, and she was well on her way to becoming a helpless puddle. Her only saving grace was the baby, whose frustration had reached its limit. Thankfully, Carl was on hand to reclaim his sister, and Carol willfully ignored the incredulous looks both Greene girls were giving her as she let herself sag back in Daryl's unwitting embrace for a few seconds longer. "Think she got the message?"

Daryl's answer was a low rumble that made goosebumps break out all over her skin. "Think it done the trick." He withdrew his hand and awkwardly averted his eyes when she turned to face him, mumbled an expression of gratitude. "Thanks. This, uh. This one of your conditions?"

Carol's fingers worked to adjust her shirt, where a fair amount of freckled cleavage was on display thanks to Judith's earlier stubborn efforts, and bit her lip to hold back the smile that threatened, her cheeks flaming just as much or more so than Daryl's own. "And if it is?"

Daryl rubbed a shaky hand over his face and swore.

Hooking a finger in the neck of his shirt, Carol let her smile reign free as she drew him closer and whispered, "Just remember, Pookie. I _did_ warn you."

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 **xxxxx**

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 **Let me know what you think.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Stupid Cupid**

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 **xx3xx**

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They went their separate ways after breakfast, and that was a good thing. While Daryl slipped away to catch up on some sleep after his late-night watch shift, Carol sought out a little solitude of her own to get her reawakened hormones and her conflicting emotions under control. All too soon, she realized there was no such thing in the halls of their growing community, and when she found herself cornered in their makeshift laundry station by a giddy Beth and a smugly smiling Maggie, she resigned herself to her fate without much of a fight. Best to get it over with, after all. "Okay."

That single word was all the permission Beth needed. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, the teen flung her arms around Carol's neck and squealed, her blue eyes happy and her smile wide.

Maggie was more reserved but only marginally. "What _was_ that out there?"

Carol feigned innocence. "What was what?"

Maggie rolled her eyes and pulled Carol's hand away when she tried to use it to hide her hint of a smile. "Don't play dumb. You. Daryl. That little show you put on for Karen. He was holding your hand. You two were _vertically_ _spooning_."

Carol sputtered with helpless laughter. " _Vertically_ _spooning_? You make it sound so… _obscene_."

"Well, you might as well have been naked." Maggie's grin was wholly unapologetic.

Beth giggled and chastised her older sister. "Maggie!"

Maggie shrugged. "With that man, handholding is tantamount to having sex in public. We all know it."

This time, Carol did the reprimanding, with a teasing twinkle in her eyes, "Daryl's a very private person. I'm sure you and Glenn wouldn't understand that."

Far from being offended, Maggie's amusement merely multiplied tenfold, and she gave Carol's hand a warm squeeze. "Seriously. I'm happy for you two."

"Me, too," Beth beamed, offering up another happy hug.

Overwhelmed in that moment, Carol felt her eyes grow warm with tears both of gratitude and guilt, and she smiled to downplay the show of emotion. "Thank you. Now. What does one wear to a party at the end of world?"

Maggie grinned. "Don't you worry about that. I'm sure we'll find you something just perfect."

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That evening, Carol was in the library packing up the books and the art supplies the children had left behind when a shadow darkened the doorway. Without looking up, she knew it was him. She always knew. She figured she had the distinct sound of his footsteps memorized by now. She waited for him to speak before she turned around with a small smile.

"Hey."

"Miss me, Pookie?"

He answered her with the Daryl version of a laugh and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

"Oh, you're good."

"The hell you going on 'bout?"

Scooping up a stack of construction paper hearts in her hands, Carol regarded him curiously for a second. "You really don't know?"

The flush that slowly crept across his neck was a dead giveaway, nevertheless Daryl persisted in playing dumb. "Don't know what?"

The flustered attempt at denial was Daryl in a nutshell, and Carol was torn between the equal urges to shake him and squeeze him to her in a breath-stealing embrace. "We're the Prison's new _it_ couple. Of course, we'd want a little bit of privacy."

"Stop **."**

He was damned cute when he blushed like a little boy, and for that reason alone, Carol decided to take her teasing up another notch or two. "According to Maggie and Beth, we're official now. No point anymore in hiding our love." His muffled _Fuck_ had her laughing outright. "Relax. Public sex isn't one of my conditions. Although…"

"Don't have to enjoy this so much, Woman."

Carol grinned, nudged his arm with her own as she slipped past him and walked toward the front of the room. She traded the paper hearts for the small hurricane lantern stationed on a table there and waited for him to approach her. "Ready to hear the rest of my conditions?"

"Don't know if I'll ever be fuckin' ready. But go ahead."

 _Oh, Pookie,_ Carol thought _. I have you right where I want you. "_ Well, you already know number one."

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 **xxxxx**

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 **I'm not so sure I like this chapter that much, but I'm my own worst critic so maybe you guys will like it more than me. Your responses so far to this little story of mine have been the bright spot to my weekend and very inspirational. Keep them coming.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Stupid Cupid**

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 **xx4xx**

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The walk from the library to C-Block wasn't a terribly long one.

Since they'd cleared and fortified this part of the Prison from Walkers, Carol had made it hundreds of times alone. Tonight, though, the hallway seemed to stretch onward for miles, and they lingered in the long shadows her lantern cast. They were essentially enjoying a moonlit stroll, without the moon or the stars, and the romantic notion had Carol smiling softly to herself. Of course, Daryl noticed. He was, as he'd once pointed out to Andrea, a most observant man.

"Looking awful pleased with yourself. Thinking up more of those _conditions_ of yours?"

Carol's steps slowed even more, Daryl's gait effortlessly matching hers, and she granted him a sideways look. Gently, she twirled the lantern in her hand, and her smile grew even more at her own whimsy, for the motion painted the dark walls with points of dancing light, _manufactured_ _stars_ , and quiet laughter bubbled from her lips at the wondering expression on his handsome face.

"Having too much fun, Woman."

Carol immediately set him straight. "No such thing." Daryl shook his head at her, but his eyes…they told her another story, and she was pleased to realize he was enjoying himself just as much. He was more relaxed than she'd seen him in a long time, and a selfish part of her wanted to bask in this small moment forever. It was a foolish thought, but then, nobody else left on this Earth inspired her to abandon the wisdom of conventional knowledge and lead more with her heart than the man beside her. Any woman with half a brain would have rejected Daryl's desperate proposal outright, especially if they cared for him as she did, with a breadth and depth of emotion she hadn't previously known herself capable of feeling. But she wasn't such a woman, and so she focused on keeping things light and loose between them, and that meant some more teasing was in order. "I think I'm being more than fair. Asking for only 75% of your chocolate stash. If I was really your girl, well. What's yours is mine and all that."

Daryl snorted. "Don't you mean what's mine is yours?"

" _Exactly_." Carol grinned, enjoying the way the corners of his mouth twitched upwards with the belated realization that he'd been had. "You're better at this than I thought."

"Yeah, well. Gonna have to watch myself 'round you."

Carol rounded on him, pretended to be affronted. "Oh, I see. I see. Now that we're _together,_ you don't trust me." There were voices up ahead, some familiar, some not, but they all faded to nothing at his simple, matter-of-fact response to her claim.

"Trust _you_. Just don't trust myself."

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Dinner that night was… _interesting_ , to say the least.

Carol hadn't been lying when she'd told Daryl they were the Prison's latest novelty, and the fascination the others seemed to have and treat their pretend romance with was intriguing in itself. Neither she nor Daryl were young like Maggie or Glenn. They didn't possess any of Beth's innocence or sweetness. Their respective lives before the Turn had, quite literally in some instances, beaten it out of them. And yet, none of that seemed to matter. If the attention was a little much for her, Daryl had to feel like a specimen underneath a microscope. Still, he handled it reasonably well. At least until the questions and comments started, and Carol took advantage of the situation. The way she figured it, a little public demonstration of affection here and there never hurt anybody. If this was all going to be temporary anyway, just until the circling Woodbury sharks got the message and backed off, she was going to get her cuddling in now. The redneck Prince of her heart's term, not hers.

"So. You two, huh?"

Carol nodded and covered Daryl's hand with her own. Tracing the ropy veins there, the rough callouses and network of faded scars, she accepted Tyreese's kind congratulations and wrote off the quickening of his pulse as her own wishful thinking.

"What an unusual and striking couple you make."

Considering the messenger, it was an insult wrapped in faint praise, but Carol chose to ignore it. Resting her cheek against his bared bicep and patting his stomach affectionately, feeling the hard muscles there jump in response, she played off the comment with a wink and a little smile. "Like _Beauty_ _and_ _the_ _Beast,_ right? Three guesses who's Beauty."

"This a new thing, or have you two been sneaking around right beneath our noses?"

Hershel answered his own question before Carol even had a chance, with an assist from Rick. "The relationship, maybe. But the feelings? They've been there for a while."

"From the start."

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Daryl was quiet afterward, when he walked her to her own little piece of home.

He was contemplative, and feeling somewhat unsettled herself, Carol touched her fingertips to his elbow to gain his attention. "You know. There's no rule in the relationship handbook that says you have to escort me everywhere. I'm just as capable of seeing myself to my own cell as I was yesterday, before all this started." He peered at her beneath the fringe of his dark bangs, and she hastily added, "Not that I'm not enjoying the company."

"One of your conditions ain't it? Doing couple things? Pretending we like each other."

Her lips twitched with amusement, and her eyes lit up. Deciding to push the boundaries a bit with him, pull him out of his own head, she asked, "Going to spend the night in my bunk, too, while you're at it?"

Blushing clear to the roots of his hair, he wasn't above begging. "Stop."

"Nothing screams you're a couple more than a little late night nookie." Unfazed, she persisted in her teasing. "Or we could just, what did you call it? _Cuddle_."

Daryl groaned. "You're impossible. You know that?"

"Yes, but you already knew that. _Before_."

"'Fore what?"

Carol grinned. "Before you fell ass over tea kettle for my considerable charms."

"Fuck, Woman. Would you just… _fuck_."

The words escaped him in a low growl, and Carol laughed. "I've always wanted to say that." She decided to offer him an out, though, when it became clear he didn't share her amusement and her own reservations made a return appearance. "The rabbit hole is deep, Dixon. Sure you want to keep this charade up?"

"M'sure. Ain't hurting nobody."

"It's a mutually beneficial arrangement," Carol shrugged. "I provide you with a date to the party, you give me all the chocolate I desire. I call that a win-win." Except a small, buried part of her was starting to disagree with that assessment. Naturally, she ignored it. Because this was Daryl, and whatever he asked of her, she would give it to him or die trying. The realization wasn't a new one, but it was a sobering one, and she was thankful they had reached their destination. "We're here." Her hand started to reach for the curtain.

"Going on that run tomorrow. With Glenn. Couple others."

"That's tomorrow?"

He answered her with a jerk of his chin. "Thought if you wanted to send me a list…"

A gentle, all-encompassing swell of affection for the man standing in front of her threatened to overwhelm her, and Carol's hand changed course, grabbing and holding tight to Daryl's own. "Just bring yourself and the others home safe. That's all I want."

"Do my best."

"Your best is just fine. And Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave without saying goodbye."

"Won't."

It was a promise that made Carol smile, and she brought his hand to her lips, brushed a sweet kiss across his knuckles before letting it go. "Night, Pookie. See you in the morning?"

"See you."

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 **xxxxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Stupid Cupid**

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 **xx5xx**

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Carol was up early the next morning, before the sun had even fully broken the horizon. With a cranky Judith perched on her hip, she inventoried their food stores and supplies between bouts of pacing and rubbing her index finger along the baby's painful gums. It should have been a distraction from Daryl's impending departure, but her heart and her mind were always with him. Had been since the Farm, and that held especially true when he left the safety of the Prison's fences. Still, that mattered none to Judith, and between hiccupping cries, she gnawed fretfully at Carol's offered finger, rubbed her teary face against her cheek. "I know. I know. It doesn't feel good. Does it, Sweetheart?"

"Reckon it don't. Looks to me like she's about to make a meal out of you."

Carol grinned against her charge's feverish little brow. "You didn't."

"You smiling, ain't you? Don't mean nothing of it."

His blue eyes did the smiling _and_ the apologizing for him, and Carol felt that now familiar swell of warmth start to overtake her when he stepped closer to her, from her fingers all the way to her toes as he cupped Judith's head in the palm of his hand. His voice dropped to a low, lulling rumble, and the tiny girl responded to it, weakly pushing against her and leaning heavily into the warm, solid wall of his chest. Truth be told, after such a long and restless night, Carol longed to do the same.

"Got a tooth comin' in, AssKicker? Lemme see." Daryl made no move to take the infant from her arms. He simply shuffled closer, bringing them toe to toe, Judith supported between them. Before long, the baby's exhausted lids started to droop, and the small fist that had been halfway to her mouth did the same.

"What were you, some kind of baby whisperer in a previous life?" Carol busied herself with straightening Judith's twisted clothes as she whispered the teasing question, stroking tender fingers across her fretful brow. She didn't trust herself to look up and chance meeting his eyes. Not in _that_ moment. It was so peaceful and soft, unguarded and fraught with possibility, and their proximity had her blood fizzing like champagne bubbles in her veins.

"Naw. Nothing like that. Weren't nothing at all, really."

She _did_ look at him then, and her hand found his face, her thumb traced the downward pull of his mouth. "You were always something, Daryl Dixon. _Somebody_. Even when you thought you were nothing. Always remember that."

His lashes lowered as he nodded at her, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but the words? They just weighed too much.

Maybe it was a trick of her hopeful heart. Hell, maybe it was sleep deprivation, but Carol could have sworn his eyes flickered for the briefest of seconds to her mouth. It didn't matter, though, because Glenn was clattering tiredly down the stairs, and suddenly there was Michonne, waiting, and Carol's hand drifted to the gentle rise and fall of Judith's back as she took a step back, uttered a familiar goodbye. "Looks like it's time for you to go. Stay safe out there."

"Nine lives. Remember?"

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Carol occupied herself with busy tasks the rest of the day, helping with the preparation of the meals, going around and gathering up laundry, just things that needed done. Late afternoon found her in the library again, and she was pretending to listen as Ryan read to the children from a well-loved copy of _The_ _Hobbit_ when the man's youngest daughter, Mika if memory served her correctly, stood up from the cross-legged group and approached her. Carol offered her a small smile when she reached her. "You don't like the story?"

The girl's small shoulder lifted in a shrug and she gathered her bottom lip between her teeth. "I've already heard it before. Don't _you_ like it?"

Carol's smile faltered. She watched as the child arranged her assorted art supplies on the table before climbing into the chair across from her and regarding her thoughtfully. "I do."

"Then how come you weren't listening? Were you daydreaming?"

"Maybe," Carol admitted. She didn't see any point in denying it because it was true, and she couldn't lie to the girl. She was too sweet, too genuinely curious, too pure in a tainted world, and for a moment, her baby's beautiful face swam before her eyes. She didn't let herself be swallowed up by the sudden, fierce pang of longing she felt, though. Nothing good would come of it. Besides. She had to believe her Sophia was in a better place. Instead she propped her chin in her hand and asked, "What are you making?"

"More hearts."

"More? What are they for?" Carol murmured.

"They're not to hang up. They're for people to give to their Valentines at the party," Mika answered her matter-of-factly. "The white ones are for families like me, Lizzie, and Daddy," she explained. "The pink ones are for people that like each other and want to be boyfriend and girlfriend. And the red ones are for people that _love_ each other."

She giggled as she said that last bit, her big brown eyes shining, and the wispy ends of her braid brushing against her mouth, and Carol felt her own lips curl upward. "And the yellow hearts?"

"Those are for friends."

"Friends." Carol nodded to herself. Yellow hearts, yellow flowers. It made sense.

"You can have one to give to Mr. Daryl," Mika offered. "Just pick. Whichever one you want."

"Any one?" Carol's arm reached across the table. Her fingers hovered in the air. "As simple as that?"

"Yep."

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Carol was cleaning and stacking up the dinner dishes, Beth long since sent to bed when the run crew came straggling in, each one looking worse than the last. By the time Daryl limped through the door behind Glenn, her fingers had gone nerveless and her heart. Well, it would be a while yet before it started beating normally again.

Rick pulled Michonne aside. Maggie and Glenn embraced in reunion then followed Hershel. Tyreese tiredly said his goodnights.

Daryl wordlessly started climbing the steps to his cell.

Swallowing against a dry throat, Carol looked to Michonne in question, and the other woman rest a hand on Rick's arm, broke away from their hushed discussion.

"He's okay."

"Did something…"

"Carol. _He's_ _okay_. Why don't you go see for yourself?"

"Go," Rick encouraged.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Carol frowned when she reached the space Daryl had claimed for himself. It was empty, no trace of him, but then she heard his voice. Gruff and sounding exhausted, he called to her. She whirled around.

"Hey. You think you could…"

She guided him into her cell, his fingers tethered to her own, and gave his shoulder a gentle push when it seemed he didn't know what to do, how to act, had him sit on the edge of her bunk while she crossed the small space to gather up some towels, some bandages, the small bowl of water she used at night to wash away the grit of the day. Her Hershel-approved Daryl Dixon basic survival kit. When she had everything that she needed, she returned to him, and all her worries, all her fears were in every line of her face as she stared at him. Studied him. Finally asked, "What happened?"

Daryl offered her a smile that was really more of a grimace. "Rather not say."

"Daryl."

He lifted his chin at the warning in her voice, stubbornly asserted himself. "Naw."

"Fine, then. You can patch your own self up." He surprised her then, reaching out and reclaiming her hand. Beneath the fresh, blossoming bruises on his face, a telltale tint of color arose, and Carol softened. "I can take it, Pookie. I'm a big girl."

Daryl ducked his head, lowered his eyes, and then he mumbled, "S'embarassing is all. Rather not talk about it."

She smiled, a barely there thing. "Scale of 1-10."

"15," Daryl muttered.

She lifted her free hand to his face, gently brushed his sweaty, disheveled hair aside to get a better look at a small cut above his left eyebrow. She probed it with tentative fingers. "That bad?"

Daryl winced, and his hands reflexively found her waist. "Yeah."

The warm press of his fingers through the thin layers of her clothes was dizzying, almost overwhelmingly so, but Carol willed herself to ignore it as she tended to his wounds. Likely, he hadn't even realized the placement of his hands anyway, being tired and in apparent pain. His usual defenses were down, and they were friends. He felt comfortable with her, in a way he didn't feel with anybody else. It was simple as that, and oh. _Oh_. Deeper and deeper they were falling. This must have been how Alice felt when she followed after the Mad Hatter. Her heart started doing somersaults beneath her ribs as his blue eyes found hers and his fingers started unconsciously playing with her belt loops. "Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

"What _is_ this? Are we still pretending?"

"Hell if I know."

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 **xxxxx**

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 **Sorry for the delay, everybody. It took me forever to get this chapter whipped into something I even halfway liked. I'm still a little iffy about some parts, might even go back and do a bit of a rewrite later, but until then, I hope you enjoy. Mistakes are all mine. I hope there aren't too many because I'm posting this and forcing myself to go to bed, haha.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Stupid Cupid**

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 **xx6xx**

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Carol searched his blue eyes but found only truth and her own confusion reflected back at her. Piece by piece, that line in the sand was eroding for them both, and she _knew_ Daryl. He was even less equipped to deal with it than she was. So she didn't push. She simply nodded and lowered her gaze, brought her other hand up and let her fingers slip through his hair. Scratching gently at his scalp, she worried her lip between her teeth and considered her words carefully. One misstep...well, Daryl was too important to her to mess this up.

"Stop thinking so loud." Daryl's shoulders sagged beneath her ministrations, and his lashes fluttered against his cheeks. His fingers threaded through her belt loops, and the small action made her stumble closer with a little yelp. A tiny smile lifted the corner of his mouth as his blue eyes sought out her own, startled and more than a little bit wide, and with a little dip of his chin he set her back at ease. "What?" he muttered. "Don't 'member telling you to stop."

 _Well_ _then_. "Now who's impossible? _Telling_ me?"

Daryl immediately looked contrite. "M'sorry. _Asking_ you. That better?"

Carol's lips twitched, and she pretended to mull it over. He looked pitiful enough, with his rainbow array of bruises and various butterfly bandages, that she didn't have the heart to make him suffer long, and low, throaty sounds of pleasure soon rumbled in his chest as he leaned into her renewed touch, lazy and affection-starved, his forehead pressing into her belly. The smile came easy to Carol as she teased him. "You're like a big cat."

"You have to say _that_?"

There was a story there. One she'd pushed for more of later. Until then, Carol couldn't resist taking her needling a little bit farther. Somehow, she just knew. Wherever he was in the afterlife, Merle Dixon would be proud. "What's the matter, Dixon? You saying you don't like pussies?"

Daryl's fingers tightened reflexively, and he groaned into the worn fabric of her shirt, his breath warm and quivery. "Jesus, Woman. _Fuck_. Stop that."

Her smile broadening into an ear-to-ear grin, Carol tickled her nails across the nape of his neck, and much to her delight, he shivered. She felt it all the way to _her_ toes. With as much innocence as she could muster, she asked, "Stop _what_ , Pookie?" He looked at her then, all bright blue eyes and glittering heat, and the wicked laughter bubbling in her chest fizzled out, and somehow her heart made the jump all the way to her throat in seconds.

"Teasing."

One of his thumbs had found its way to her waist, slipped just beneath the barrier of her pants to stroke absently at the sharp jut of her hip, and it was Carol's turn to shiver. Her voice was a soft, breathy thing when she rediscovered it. "Couples tease, Daryl. You and I..." she trailed off as a bit of deeply buried knowledge floated back to the surface, and she swallowed hard against the truth written all over her heart. Because Daryl wasn't ready. She didn't know if he _ever_ would be, and she _had_ to be okay with that. Carol knew she would pretend forever if she had to. "Couples do couple things." His hand dropped, and his gaze skittered away, withdrew from her like a flower folding its petals against the sun. She felt the loss of both like a physical ache just beneath her skin, seeping into the lace network of her nerve endings and traveling far and wide.

"Your conditions. Right."

His name scraped its way past her tender throat as he stood up and turned to go, weary of the day, the conversation, and, her old insecurities whispered in her ear, _her_. "Daryl."

"S'late. Promised Rick I'd go on a hunt 'fore the party."

Her hand reached out and curled around his own. "That was before. You're hurt. I'm sure Rick will understand."

He squeezed her fingers with his own then gently worked his hand free. "Ain't nothing," he claimed, even though she could clearly see he was favoring his left leg. "'Sides. Time's running out, and those kids you're teaching? Deserve more in their bellies than stale candy hearts and scavenged beans."

Carol's own hurt softened, melted and forced itself between her ribs, made every breath a reminder of just how good of a man Daryl Dixon truly was. Lifting on tiptoe, she grasped his shoulder and pressed a lingering kiss to his stubbly cheek. She held on tighter at his shaky exhale, the arm he instinctively looped around her waist. "We don't deserve you."

Blushing and ducking his head, Daryl hid his eyes and his emotions from her beneath the dark veil of his bangs. "Quit your carrying on now. Ain't nobody watching."

Carol pressed another tiny kiss to his skin before rocking back on her heels and smiling, softly uttering an admission as she patted his other cheek with her hand. "I know." She lifted one slender shoulder in a shrug. "Just a you and me thing. Sweet dreams, Pookie."

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 **I'd love to read your thoughts, so don't be shy.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Stupid Cupid**

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 **xx7xx**

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"You figured it out yet?"

Her arms folded across her chest and a slight frown on her lips, Carol turned at the sound of Rick's voice, a curious brow arched in question, and waited. She didn't have to wait long. The former Sheriff's Deputy's blue eyes crinkled with humor, and his voice was dry but full of unspoken affection as he approached her, joined her in staring at their understocked food stores with one hand on his hip and the other tugging thoughtfully at his beard. "How to make something out of nothing? Yes. And no."

It was Rick's turn to frown, and he did, narrowing his eyes at her and lifting the hand at his beard to scratch absently at the back of his head. "We still talking about the menu for the party tomorrow?"

Carol's lips twitched as she moved to step around him, parceling out the items for the morning's breakfast. For the second day in a row, she'd been up with the sun. This time, though, there'd been no fretful, teething baby to keep her company. Judith, thankfully, had slept through the night, and Rick, no doubt Carl, too, was in a much better mood for it. Truth be told, everybody in their block probably was. At least they _should_ be. As usual, Carol felt like the only exception. All because Daryl had lit out under the cover of the moon without so much as a goodbye, and she had a sinking feeling he wasn't just fulfilling a promise. He was escaping, and he'd taken Michonne with him. Obviously, she'd made him uncomfortable the night before. "Daryl say anything to you?"

"About?"

Fixing a bright smile on her face, she played off the question with a shrug of her shoulders. "Oh, nothing. Forget I asked. I just thought…"

Of course, Rick saw straight through her act, maybe even more than he realized, and he palmed the round of her shoulder, gave it an encouraging squeeze. "He's _with_ you. Believe it. Trust it."

Feeling sudden tears burn at the unsolicited show of support, not to mention the weight of the subterfuge she was trying to fool Daryl and their family with, Carol simply nodded and clasped his hand briefly with her own before letting it go. Rick's hand slid to the back of her neck, and she sniffled at the grin he offered her.

"You never know. The man might have a few surprises up his sleeve."

"What sleeve?" She laughed through her tears, and Rick chuckled, bestowed a brotherly kiss to her forehead.

"Got me there." He turned to go, Judith's faint, insistent cries heralding the inevitable end of C Block's quiet morning. "Better go. Sleeping Beauty awakes."

"Rick?" Carol called after him, and he paused in his loping stride. "Thank you."

"You've always been good at it, making something out of nothing. Lori liked to say you had the magic touch."

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 **333**

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The afternoon sky was clear, the sun high and bright, and the air unseasonably warm so when Ryan suggested they move their classes outside to the courtyard so Beth and Zach, Tyreese and a bunch of the Woodbury folk could transform the library into a make-believe getaway of hearts and dreams, Carol didn't protest much. In fact, she relished the increasingly rare chance to set foot outside of the thick concrete walls, and she paid half a mind to the few Walkers that stumbled aimlessly around the Prison's perimeter. They were just stragglers anyway, and she had no doubt Sasha would alert them to any problems that might arise. She looked up when she fell in shadow and smiled patiently. "Yes, Mika?"

"Can I sit by you, Ms. Carol?"

" _May_ I," she corrected absently. "And yes. You may."

The little girl didn't wait for her to change her mind, tucking her short legs beneath her as she lowered herself to the frayed edge of Carol's blanket. Her stubby fingers were smudged with a fine layer of yellow chalk dust, and her loose braid glinted gold in the light of the sun. Her cheek dimpled in her round face as she grinned at her chosen companion. "The party's tomorrow."

"I know."

"Are you and Mr. Daryl going to dance?"

A laugh threatened to bubble from Carol's lips at the very thought, but she gathered it close, channeled it into an easy grin of her own, a ready twinkle of her eyes instead. "I don't think it's that kind of party. But I'm sure you can dance if you want to."

Mika seemed mollified by that answer, her disappointment not lasting more than a few seconds. "At least there'll be music. Mr. Tyreese said they found batteries and lots of old CDs on the run yesterday. He said he don't know what's on them, but that's half the fun. It'll be a surprise for everybody. Don't you just love surprises?"

"Sometimes," Carol murmured, watching as the child started to trace out a string of letters. She soon realized it was a quote from their current book selection, and her brow furrowed. "Mika?" she questioned. " _He_ _thought_ _much_ _but_ _said_ _little_. Why that quote?" She vaguely remembered Ryan requesting the children write out their favorite quote thus far from _The Hobbit_ in return for a promise of an afternoon of play, but her mind, as it had so many times today, had been elsewhere. With Daryl and her worries over how he was dealing with everything that had happened between them in the last few days, and then this quote. It reminded her of how narrow a path they were walking between hurt and something else because Daryl? He'd be the last to say anything if they threatened to stumble along the way. The man always put his own feelings and wants last. "Why that one?"

"It reminds me of Lizzie," Mika said matter-of-factly. "And it's easy to remember."

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 **Poor Carol, huh?**

 **Methinks she's down at the bottom of the rabbit hole, looking up.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter in spite of the lack of Caryl cuteness. That little angst bunny just keeps nibbling away at our babies, though. It's a pesky wee thing. Emphasis on wee, lol.**

 **More Caryl next chapter. Cuteness and okay. Maybe a bit of minor, easily resolved angst.**

 **Thanks for reading and taking the time to leave me a few words. You have no idea how much they inspire to write more.**


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